Dreams
by AccioJosh
Summary: [Slash hd] Sometimes pain is just too much. Sometimes dreams are just too intense. Sometimes we just need that one reminder that life is worth living.


Sitting in the darkened common room, bathed in the shadows of three a.m., Harry mindlessly rubbed the hem of his robes as his thoughts drifted back to a night several months previous. Thinking of Sirius always gave him that little twitch above his eye, the one that felt like blood had reached an impass but was trying to make its way through none the less.  
  
Eyeing nothing in particular, his gaze drifted to the dying fire and he was reminded of a dying soul, passing through a billowing cloak of life into the darkness beyond. A single tear made its way unwelcome down his cheek, tracing a path in the dirty soot of the previous evenings Quidditch match. Without so much as flinching, he stood resolutely and walked quickly out into the night.  
  
As he found himself on the top of the Astronmy Tower, looking down at the entrance to the school, he thought back to the night when he had seen Professor McGonagall thrown down by five Ministry men at the orders of a deranged woman. He thought of the many hours between then and now; the uslessness of his life.  
  
"There's no one left," he said to the night sky, the moon now covered in cloud. Stepping gently onto a turret, he felt his balance tip and nearly landed himself dead. He smiled and started to sway dangerously, allowing his body to come to horrible angles over the vast distance between him and the ground.  
  
A soft whisper, nearly missed, came along the night breeze. Wrapping around him and pulling him to rest, waiting to hear it again. "Potter," it said. "Don't," it called, gently, nudging him to hear but not being loud enough to startle. He turned, slowly, watching his balance so that he might hear it just once more. So famaliar, so distant.  
  
His emerald eyes rested on slate-blue, so light they almost felt gray and icy, but there was warmth there; a softness he had yet to know. The silver blond hair was unkempt, billowing about in the breeze and giving his arch-nemesis a slightly less dasterdly look. Harry smiled, wondering if Draco was here to wish him well and see him off. It would be just like Malfoy to want to witness his final moment.  
  
"Potter, what are you doing?"  
  
"I'm leaving, Malfoy."  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"To find Sirius," Harry replied, a slight note of happiness creeping into his voice. He felt his breath hitch, some ache pulling at his heart. He ignored it, knowing that all would be fine if he just leant back...  
  
"You can't leave, Potter."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"I need you."  
  
So simple, but somehow entrancing. Harry cocked an eyebrow, looking at the silk-clad Slytherin before him as if seeing him for the first time. "What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Curiosity.  
  
"I can't let you go," he sighed, breaking eye contact to look away in shame, terrified the dark-haired boy would see the glint of diamond at the corners of his eyes. "I need you." A simple confession.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I have always, and I don't know why." The boy did look then, into the green expance of pain, sharing his own and hoping, crying freely for him to witness.  
  
Harry saw the glint, the diamonds. His mind raced, his heart ached. He wanted to touch them, to pull them away and study the way the stars seemed to be captured in their tiny shimmers. And as he moved before the ghost of a boy before him, he reached up and pulled a single glint onto the tip of his finger. Regarding it with awe, he startled at the touch of finger to cheek and nearly cried when the hand moved to pull him closer.  
  
"I'm sorry," he whispered gently in Harry's ear.  
  
Harry opened up then, coming back into himself as if he had simply taken a flight and the plane had just touched down. Looking at the young man before him, shock and dismay filling his features, Harry looked around to see himself standing, as if in mid-air, on top of the world. He looked slowly back to Malfoy, his eyes now shaded with doubt and fear.  
  
"What are we doing up here, Draco?"  
  
"You were looking for Sirius," he said calmly. "I followed you to make sure you made it back alright."  
  
"I want to go back to bed," Harry said quietly, uncertain of himself.  
  
"I want you to come back to bed. To me." Draco's eyes were still filled with tears, but Harry couldn't figure out why. He smiled nervously and shivered in the cold. "Let's go, Harry. Come back to bed."  
  
Harry nodded, looking behind himself to see the stone turret and beyond it, the trees of the Dark Forest. He thought he caught a glimpse of something, someone, a shadow there just at the edge. For a brief moment, he wondered if it were the big black dog that had been haunting his dreams, but he shook his head and it was gone.  
  
Allowing himself to be pulled by Draco's warm hand, he finally turned to accept Draco's lead.  
  
"I miss him," he said quietly to no one in particular. "But I have you now," he added to Draco.  
  
Silence answered him and he wondered if the boy had heard, but as they climbed back into bed, Draco wrapping him in a warm embrace to fight the chill of the cold winds that had penetrated his red and gold pajamas, Harry forgot his dreams and thought only of the love behind him, holding him.  
  
"I love you."  
  
"And I you." 


End file.
